


this, too, could last

by playedwright



Series: most precious gold [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Filler, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Here’s the hard part about being in love with your best friend:You can tell them you’re in love with them a thousand times. You can show them you’re in love with them a million different ways.But the line between platonic and romantic is not as thin as a wire; sometimes it feels like a fucking fence, and it’s impossible to convince the other person to climb over it.





	this, too, could last

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on [tumblr](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/post/186709290682/kat-my-wonderful-friend-may-i-please-have-70-for/) and semi-unintentionally served as a prequel for the other holsom prompt fill i wrote around the same time!

Here’s the hard part about being in love with your best friend:

You can tell them you’re in love with them a thousand times. You can show them you’re in love with them a million different ways.

But the line between platonic and romantic is not as thin as a wire; sometimes it feels like a fucking fence, and it’s impossible to convince the other person to climb forward.

God —this metaphor is getting away from him. He spent too much time working on that stupid ten-page English essay last week and now he can’t stop comparing things. He slumps forward until his forehead hits his notebook.

“Coral reef?” Holster asks from next to him.

Ransom lets out a long groan and lifts his head just to drop it back down heavily. “No,” he says moodily. “I’m just whining.”

Holster pats his back. “As is your right, bro.”

And that— _ that.  _ That’s the whole root of his damn problem here. Here’s Holster, the best dude in the world, in Ransom’s humble opinion, and here’s the way he always remembers to touch Ransom’s back instead of his head because Ransom doesn’t like people touching his hair, and there he is half a second later calling Ransom  _ bro _ .

As far as standards go, Ransom knows that’s setting a low bar.

In his defense, at least, Holster checks off a lot of his other boxes too. Tall, athletic, smart, musically inclined, funny, kind, hot…

Ransom sighs and turns so he’s resting on his cheek instead of his forehead. Holster gives him a sympathetic glance before going back to his homework. Sometimes, in moments like these, Ransom is struck by how quietly beautiful Holster is.

Like, the guy is built like a tree and there’s no denying he’s  _ hot _ . But there’s something about these moments, where Holster’s wearing his glasses and a hoodie that’s a little bit too stretched out at the neck and there’s still traces of sleep in his eyes and his tongue pokes out occasionally as he works through a problem set. These are the moments that really only Ransom is privy to; he covets them, in a way, but he also knows that these are the times where Holster could take anyone’s breath away if they could see him like this.

“Seriously, Rans, you good?” Holster finally asks, breaking Ransom out of his reverie. “You’ve been staring at me for like five minutes straight. I know I’m dashingly good-looking, but you seem pretty zoned out.”

Ransom raises his head. There’s an indent from the corner of his notebook edged on his cheek. He rubs the mark self-consciously. “I’m good, Holtzy. Swear to god these semesters get longer every damn year. Shouldn’t it be time for finals? I feel like it’s time for finals.”

“We have, like, over a month, bro,” Holster reminds him. “It’s just gonna get worse before it gets better.”

“At least we only have one more semester after that.”

Holster frowns. He taps his pen against the edge of his textbook, an anxious habit that Ransom recognizes. There’s a faraway look in his eyes that spikes nerves in Ransom’s gut. “Can’t believe we’ll be done by this time next year.”

Ransom forces his shoulders to relax. “Yeah, but isn’t it exciting? We could be anywhere next year.”

“You could be anywhere,” Holster corrects. There’s still an unhappy look on his face. “I’ll most likely be in Boston. That’s where all my job interviews have been, anyway.”

Something about the way Holster says it sits uncomfortable in Ransom’s stomach. He’s already worked himself anxious several times before at the thought of living somewhere without Holster. He hates the idea that they won’t be together, even if they aren’t  _ together _ . “Dude, I interviewed at, like, at least half of the same places.”

Holster wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, as a Plan B. You’re going to get into med school, Ransy. You’re hella smart and charming and they’d be dumb to turn you down.”

Ransom doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s not ready for medical school yet.

He doesn’t know how to tell Holster a lot of things, if he’s being honest.

“How lame would it be to ask you to apply for jobs in the same cities I’m applying to?” he asks instead, because even though he’s wearing his heart on his goddamn sleeve it’s still safer than asking anything else.

“What, you aren’t sick of me yet?” Holster asks with a grin.

Ransom scoffs.  “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

His heart stops beating in his chest.

Holster is quiet for one, two, three too many beats, before he smirks and drops his eyes back down to his paper. “You better love me. Best bros for life, right? Holster and Ransom! Ransom and Holster!”

“ _ Adam _ ,” Ransom breathes out. His voice sounds strangled.

Holster’s expression softens. He puts a hand on Ransom’s knee when he glances back up. “I’m just giving you shit, man. I know you love me. And I hope you know I love you too. E- _ specially  _ after everything we’ve been through. If you really want me to apply for jobs in the same cities as you, I will.”

Ransom swallows thickly. He could take his beating heart out of his chest and offering to Holster right now and it still wouldn’t be a clear enough sign. This is the hardest part; this is where the line they toe becomes a chasm between them.

“You serious?” he asks.

Holster squeezes his knee. “On my Bubbe’s life. And you know I don’t say that lightly.”

Ransom nods twice. His eyes feel hazy, like he could cry if he’d let himself. He covers Holster’s hand with his own and squeezes once. He tries not to think about what it would feel like to actually hold Holster’s hand in his own.

“Chyeah!” Holster cheers. He gets a sharp glare from another patron of the library, down a few tables. “Sorry. But  _ chyeah  _ dude! We could get an apartment or some shit. We could have  _ infinite  _ best friend sundaes!”

Despite it all, Ransom laughs. It’s hard, sometimes, being in love with your best friend. But Ransom knows it’s worth it. He wouldn’t trade Holster for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> as always, you can find me [here](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/).
> 
> comment, kudos, and bookmark below!


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